For Love of the Dacia.

Byline: Andrei Postelnicu (Postelnicu writes for the Financial Times)

They have all the aesthetic appeal of an outhouse on wheels. Many required repair the moment they were made. Yet when the last Dacia, Romania's iconic communist-era sedan, recently rolled off the assembly line an entire country found itself misty-eyed. Even those who long ago graduated to the big time--driving a Mercedes--sing the virtues of the boxy, unsightly car that for decades has reigned supreme over Romania's potholed roadways.

We who loved her saw the Dacia as the automotive reflection of our cosmopolitanism, even during the Dark Years. It was, after all, a copycat of the Renault 12, spawned during an era when the dictator Nicolae Ceausescu allowed collaboration with the French automaker. Except that Renault has since moved on and now makes sleek modern cars. The last Dacia is very much like the first that rolled out in 1968--and some 1.9 million in between.

Ask any Romanian, and he will give you countless reasons why his Dacia is unique, special and better than his neighbor's. It starts with the endearing names bestowed upon it--Old Girl is popular--and ends with the fact that spare parts taken from one Dacia are almost guaranteed not to fit or function properly in another. They must be hammered or bent into place, even if bought from a dealership.

Dacia drivers never leave home without a sizable tool kit. Among the most common sights in Romania is a Dacia with the hood up and its driver blackened with engine grease, attempting repairs with the help of at least one other sympathetic soul who happened to be driving by. To avoid such dreaded roadside breakdowns, many Dacia owners took up the full-time hobby of nursing their cars as if they were frail ...